


Love Burns

by Angelhart



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon - Anime, Canon - Manga, Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist Manga, Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, F/M, FullMetal Alchemist - Freeform, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, NSFW, One Shot, Post-Canon, Romance, Roy - Freeform, fma, fmab - Freeform, riza - Freeform, roy x riza, リザ・ホークアイ, ロイ・マスタング
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelhart/pseuds/Angelhart
Summary: Roy Mustang has many regrets in life. But one he can still remedy: his unspoken feelings towards his subordinate.





	Love Burns

AUTHOR: Angelhart  
GENRE: romance/hurt comfort/humor  
STORY: one shot  
STATUS: complete  
RATING: M/MA (this story contains adult content!)  
DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist 鋼の錬金術師 ©2001 Hiromu Arakawa/Square Enix – Viz Media – Studio Bones - Funanimation All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story is post manga/Brotherhood anime.

* * *

 

 

He was silent. Even more so than usual. Every couple of minutes she eyed him from the corners of her eyes. His position next to her, his face turned towards the car window. Without his vision she could only guess what his focus of attention could be. Perhaps even nothing. His mind wondering off in thought.

He was however obvious off his game. His behavior betraying such. The fingers of his left hand on the knob of the cane that was standing straight up in between his legs, twisting the object round and round, probably without him even realizing he did so.

_"Rather they think of me as a crippled, then a blind man,"_ he had said.

She had advised against him leaving the hospital, but he had ordered her to take him home. He could no longer stand to be treated like an invalid and he had experienced enough of the scent of blood and death to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. Besides, the physical injury that remained was not something normal medicine could fix, anyway. That remedy would follow later, as he insisted, after Lieutenant Havoc's rehabilitation.

She stopped the car and even though it was obvious, she voiced their location, still. "We're here."

The fingers squeezed the knob of the cane, she could see the tension in his knuckles that were covered by the white glove, then his head turned to face her and he gave her a smile. "All right, lieutenant, let's go."

It was a mask of deceit. One they had put on so many times during their lives, for in the roles they played there was no room for trivial emotions.

"Yes, colonel," she replied, then she opened the door and got out of the car. By the way he turned his head she could tell he was pinpointing her location as she walked around the vehicle. Repositioning as she opened the door. Cane first, then his body followed, then taking a straight pose, right away as expected of a man of his stature. Never defeated, always strong. She could picture him like that, standing on the balcony facing the nation. A leader. She had believed in him from the day he had told her his vision.

She still did.

She closed the door and after taking his bag from the seat in the back, locked the car, meanwhile her eyes quickly scanning the surroundings. No one was watching. Perfect.

He was waiting until she passed him, then followed. A soft cough from her telling him when the stairs began. There was a slight hesitation in his steps, but hardly noticeable and easily mistaken for one who had trouble walking because of a leg injury. And after that last battle so many wounds were inflicted upon them all, that it was hard to tell for anyone who suffered from what. And only a trusted few knew the real reason for colonel Mustang's unsteady walk.

_One, two, three, four, five…_ She counted the steps of the stairs in her head, certain he was doing the same. He came to a stop next to her as she opened the door. Four steps through the hallway, then left would be the kitchen, on the right a small office. Two more steps to the stairs on the left, then one more to enter the living room. He entered first and she closed the door behind them. Carefully measured he walked towards the living room using the cane to measure the distance to the walls on either side of him. His coordination, still a weakness. But he had found an excuse for that, if need be. Nobody blamed a man of having too much too drink after a big trauma.

She had expected him to sit down on the couch on his right, but he remained standing and he let out a big sigh as she dropped his bag on the floor next to the chair. Then he moved forward and bumped into the table with his shins and released a curse.

"One and half from the couch. Not two."

His face turned into the direction of her voice and his eyes narrowed. "Thanks for the reminder, lieutenant," he bit sarcastically.

He pushed the black longcoat over his shoulders and threw it aside. The coat knocking over a lamp instead draping over the couch as he had intended. Another sigh left his mouth as he took off the jacket of his uniform and realized that the fabric also missed the sofa and fell on the floor.

"It's chilly here, don't you think. At least I'm not that helpless that I cannot light a fire."

As he turned around, Riza jumped forward. "Wait!" She took hold of his hands before he could finish the movement of his fingers. "The fire place is not over there."

"It isn't?"

He moved his head and if it were any other circumstance it would probably have been funny and she would most likely have laughed. Now she was concerned that leaving him here was perhaps not such a good idea, even if it was his own home.

"Do you have any matches?" But as she looked at his face and noticed his expression, she became aware she had just asked the obvious. Of course, he didn't. She then directed his body for the right angle. "One o'clock."

He snapped his fingers and within a second the fire place was lit and the comfortable heat was immediately spreading throughout the house. Then he removed his gloves and this time both items hit their mark and landed on top of the table. As she was gathering his coat and uniform jacket she noticed him rubbing the scar tissue on his hands. Even though still healing they would leave a nasty mark on both his palms. The exit wound seemed to be healing better. His features were painful as he moved his fingers over the damaged skin, reminding her to get the oil from Doctor Marcoh out of the bag and remind him to not forget to keep his hands moisturized. Otherwise the scars would not heal properly and restrict him in movement in the future.

As she hanged his coat and the jacket on the coat rack in the hallway she suddenly recalled that horrid day and cringed as the memory inflicted some phantom pain on her back. Swallowing she pushed it back in the dark corners of her mind where all memories lingered she would rather forget. She soothed the painful sting with a more loving memory of him not leaving her side and even tending to the injury he had inflicted upon her. Gentle hands covering her with wet towels and applying lotion on her burned skin. She had refused seeking any medical attention and therefore he had insisted on watching over her, afraid she would die of infection. Even faced her fury as he had called on the aid of doctor Knox when she became feverish that night.

That night he had giving her, her first order. Even though she had not been under his command. That night, he had ordered her not to die.

_She swallowed heavily, tears burning behind her eyes as heat seemed to consume her entire body. Yet she still tried to laugh. "I am sorry, but I'm not yours to command."_

_He took hold of her chin and forced her to look at him. "That is unacceptable! If need be I will work my way to a promotion to make you obey this order!"_

And there she had seen it. That look on his face. Determination. A man who was going to change the world. And on that day, she knew she wanted to become part of that dream. His dream.

Even if it meant following him to hell and back.

When she returned to the living room he was still standing. She didn't know what he was waiting for and after placing the bottle of oil on the table, she reached out to him, feeling sorry for what she took as lack of confidence.

"I'm here," she said reassuringly, but instead of taking her hands he reached out and took hold of her face, the movement startling her and making her gasp.

The touch was awkward and she had flinched before his fingers had reached her skin. His left first on her forehead, the right on her left ear, before they repositioned and were cupping her cheeks.

"I have many regrets in life, things I cannot undo and I must redeem for. But there is one thing I can still remedy, I think."

She stood there, silently, listening to his words and gazing into the grey void in his eyes.

"Forgive me..."

"For what?" She asked softly.

"If I miss your mouth."

But her voice had guided him as he bent forward and his lips touched hers in a kiss that was quite hard and she would instinctively have retreated from if his hands had not been on her face.

Her heart rate immediately took on a faster rhythm and she took a gasp for air when he retreated, still holding her as if he was afraid she would turn away.

She blinked in confusion, noticing the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the similarity in her body, as well.

"Co-"

He interrupted her. "You better slap me, lieutenant, if it was out of place and inappropriate, for I'm about to do it again."

She didn't and this time she even found herself leaning in as he kissed her again. She opened her mouth at the feel of his tongue against her lips, giving him permission to make it more intimate which he eagerly accepted.

"I'm a fool," he muttered.

She wanted to ask, but his mouth was relentless, only allowing her the necessary air to breathe and the opportunity for only him to speak.

"I'm a fool," he repeated. "For waiting so long."

She felt his fingers moving to the back of her head, unclasping the item that was holding her hair up. She could hear it hitting a wall as he threw it behind her and then immediately his fingers were roaming through her hair.

His left hand cupped her face when she pulled back a bit. And she could tell he was hesitant in releasing her, his other hand taking hold of her arm.

"Do you doubt my feelings for you?"

She was quick in her answer: "no." In her heart she had always known. Although never truly displayed openly she knew his affection for her went deeper than genuine concern for a subordinate.

She realized she had closed her eyes when she felt the brushing of his lips against her own. A tug on her jacket before it pooled on the floor around her feet.

"Then kiss me, lieutenant."

And she did. After removing her holster, she took hold of his face before he could fully retreat to await her answer. Pulling him forward with one hand against the back of his head and pressing her lips firmly against his. She felt him unbuttoning his shirt before he took hold of her waist and walked backwards, taking her with him.

"The couch-" But he broke of her sentence with another kiss.

"I'm not aiming for the couch."

Unsure if she needed to worry about his direction she tried to stop him and break of the kiss to see where they were going. She could tell by the warmth, though, that they were heading towards the fire place. His actions were, however, determined and confident and she followed him as he lowered them to the floor.

"I had a dream once," he started as he laid her down, "when I bought this house to see you, naked, on furs in front of this fireplace."

She clasped her hands in front of her mouth to smother her laughing. When she had first entered this house during his stay in the hospital to map out his place and to bring groceries, she had noticed the item and had found it rather ridiculously decadent and so out of place. His room in the dorm had been rather sober and somehow, she had pictured him like that. Even the rest of this house had been simply furnished. But as she had entered the living room she had strangely stared at that one luxurious item that decorated the wooden floor even considering of removing it, for one wrong step and it could roll up and he could trip over it.

"Sadly," he continued, "it seems that right now, I have to settle with a not entirely complete fulfillment of that fantasy."

And she could tell by the movement of his eyes that he was actually trying hard to see. His body still reluctant to except the loss of vision.

She moved her fingers through his hair as he leaned over her. "Do you… have these kind of dreams, often, colonel?"

"Hauntingly so, lieutenant." His breath was hot against her neck and so was his touch as fingers slid underneath her shirt and traced a path upwards over her skin. "Hauntingly so."

Then in a rush movement the black fabric was pushed up and over her head, but as she stretched her arms so he could remove the article entirely, she found her arms caught in the sleeves as he pressed it against the floor and his lips descended on her chest. The temperature of his body as it was pressed against her a burning heat in contrast against her own. As if his was a mere vessel for raging flames that he could release at will.

His lips followed the path of fingers, following the strap of her bra to her left shoulder. It was pushed aside and a soft kiss was placed on the healing cut that had been inflicted by Envy. His fingertips marking the path for his mouth as they encountered the scar tissue.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "for arriving so late."

She tried to free her arms, feeling the need to hold him. She had never held him responsible. It was she who had disobeyed the order when he had told her to wait.

His fingers traced the path of the strap back down, following the edge of the fabric over her breasts to her other arm then suddenly stopped when his thumb brushed over another mark on her skin. Unconsciously, she held in her breath as he explored the irregularity on her right breast.

Even a sniper has some bad luck on occasion. She remembered not even feeling the bullet penetrating her skin. Only feeling a wet substance suddenly as blood leaked from the entry wound. It had been a ricocheted bullet. The damage minimum. No exit wound and easily extracted. Yet it still left her with a small scar.

"Ishval," she said as his fingers lingered.

He raised his head and even without the stern look in his eyes she could tell he was silently scolding her for not revealing such injury.

"Ricocheted bullet."

He lowered his head again and she felt the warm touch of his mouth on that spot, lips tracing the pattern in the kiss.

With careful precision he undid the clasp on her back and this time as he pushed the fabric up, freed her arms from her shirt as well.

His fingers moved over her shoulders to her back. In the embrace he would use to pull her closer, in the exploration of her body, she knew what he would find. That one he inflicted upon her himself. Something she had asked him to do. She didn't need to be remembered. He didn't need to be remembered. Folding her legs around his waist she pushed her back off the floor and flipped them over. The act surprised him and a grunt left his mouth as he suddenly found himself on his back.

She kissed him deeply, pressing her now bare chest against his and as she pushed herself down to straddle his waist, she felt the start of a beginning erection straining against his trousers. As she sat up and looked down on him she was actually shocked to see the size of the scar tissue on his left side. Just below his chest the pattern of ragged skin started. Then disappearing into his pants and probably reaching all the way down to his hip bone. She had seen this pattern of scarring before. Once. When she had asked him to show it to her. As if the pain wasn't enough to confirm her that the damage to her father's work had been severe. But she needed the validation still. With him holding and angling the mirror, she had stared at the reflection of her back. He had lowered the item immediately when the sight had brought her to tears. Her hand clasping in front of her mouth, then swiftly regaining her composure and thanking him before he would become overloaded with guilt.

His right hand reached out to her and she took hold of it then softly kissed the scar on his palm, before she turned his hand around and pressed her mouth against the scar on the back. Then sliding further down on his body she traced an invisible path with her lips and tongue over his chest. His heartbeat quickening underneath her fingers. A short chuckle leaving his throat and muscles tensed when the fingers of her left hand brushed over his other side. Apparently, the man was ticklish. Filing the information in her head in case it might ever work to her advantage, she moved on over his stomach to the other side and with the same loving tribute as he had done, she kissed the damaged skin gently. A path downward until she felt the waistband of his pants.

She removed his boots and socks first then his pants, aided by him as he lifted his hips when she pulled them off. His aroused state was impossible to miss, the bulge behind the white fabric of his shorts looking rather uncomfortable. Feeling bold she cupped him intimately, his right hand taking hold of her wrist, right away.

"Careful, lieutenant. That gun is loaded."

She laughed softly at the pun then released him slowly. "You don't trust your gun specialist with this weapon, sir?" She teased.

It was even more amusing when she noticed he was struggling in finding a witty comment to her remark. When he obviously couldn't think of one he said: "Good point."

She decided to indulge him and continued her previous exploration. Now that the high waistband of his pants were gone, she could now see that the scar tissue indeed went all the way down to his hip. She could imagine the pain he must have felt as he had burned the flesh to close the enormous wound. With admiration and love she traced the irregular pattern with her lips and fingertips.

There was a hitch in his breathing when her mouth followed the line of the waistband of his shorts to the other side. The hand in her hair warning her by pressure that she was exploring 'dangerous' territory. But it was just a pass by as she kissed the soft and smooth skin of his hipbone on the other side. As she hooked both her hands underneath the fabric and softly pulled, the knuckles of her fingers of her left hand suddenly stroked over another strange disturbance in the pattern on his skin. The location was odd, though. Very odd.

She sat op and looked at him questionably, her fingers now lingering on the spot.

He cleared his throat and turned his head away. Even without his sight he could obviously still feel her gaze.

"The day before yesterday. I thought I'd reached the bed. I hadn't and I-" His sentence broke at the sound of her reaction. "Are you laughing, lieutenant?"

She didn't want to laugh but a soft giggle escaped her mouth, still. It was just too easy to imagine how he had wanted to sit down and scraped his behind on the wood of the floor, instead of landing on the soft bed he had expected to be there.

At his question, she placed a hand in front of her mouth to silence herself. "I'm sorry. It's just-"

Suddenly she was pinned beneath him again. His body quick in rolling them over, her back on the soft hairs of the furry rug.

"This just won't do. I cannot allow you to fall into insubordination by mocking a superior." He managed to keep his tone remarkably serious as he was grinning widely. But he had mastered the skill of deception so expertly as he had been forced to protect all those he held dear.

She stared at his face, her lower body pinned by his hips and noticed the slow change in his demeanor.

"Scars can be intriguing... There are two on your body that fascinate me in particular. In a frightening manner. This one." His mouth descended on her right breast, kissing the round scar before his lips went lower, his tongue curling around the nipple before he sucked it into his mouth. At the same time, his left hand cupped the other one and he rolled that nipple between his fingers.

Then his mouth moved up and his tongue and lips traced the long scar of her neck right after his words, "and this one."

The feeling was strange and in a weird way sexually stimulating even. The skin still healing and perhaps over sensitive because of it, before it would become numb as it would with old scar tissue. Now the path of his mouth caused a pleasurable shiver.

"These two," he spoke as he alternated between the two locations on her body, "almost took you away from me." He raised his head, she knew that gaze in his eyes. Even in the grey space she was staring at now, she could still recognize that look of guilt and concern. "I am to blame for this. I will accept whatever punishment that waits for me in that dark realm when the time comes. How can I accept a status of führer, when I'm unable to protect my own people?"

She took hold of his face. "Because they need you. I am but a shield."

_"Why did you become a soldier?"_

_"Because there is someone I have to protect. Until the day comes that this person has accomplished his goal."_

"I have not fulfilled my purpose yet."

"Then I order you not to die." And his mouth pressed on hers hard.

"Hai," she replied in the short reprieve he gave her.

_Not before you. I promise._

She moaned against his mouth when his right hand slid underneath the waistband of her pants and panties and almost urgently slid between the folds. Her back arched in the precise stroke of his fingers. First one, then two sliding inside in a rhythmic motion, convinced that his hot ragged breath would leave burn marks on her neck. A shudder running through her when his voice whispered her name in her ear. The sound of it so unfamiliar coming from him and so erotic.

He smiled at the sound she released in disappointment when he sat up and his ministrations stopped. But she was indeed still quite overdressed and she realized this when she suddenly felt a sharp pull on one of her boots. Unprepared for the strange sensation as he nipped at her ankle when he removed the sock next, she sat up. She watched him placing a kiss on the sole of her foot before he set it down and she felt the soft hairs of the fur tickling her. He repeated the same action on her other foot as well, the devotion of the performance making her blush in embarrassment. Something she was glad for he couldn't see.

He was quick in removing her pants and underwear and she became aware of his own naked state when he was leaning over her and she felt his erection, now free from any confinement, pressing against her. His right arm moved underneath her rear and as the angle changed so did the pressure as his hips pushed forward. She gasped and he stopped and she realized one of her eyes had teared up. Although he couldn't see he had to have noticed something was off. Perhaps the tension within her at the sudden intrusion.

"I- I'm sorry." He stammered. "I didn't know."

And how could he have known? It was not as if she was that talkative about the love life she didn't even had. There had been only one man who she had devoted her life to. There had been no room nor interest for others.

"You should have forewarned me you were a virgin, lieutenant. Then I wouldn't have been so rough."

She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that the fingers who stroked so tenderly across her face would read the expression. "Like that is conversation topic."

He smiled. "You could have informed me in code."

She laughed, resulting in a light shudder in her body that reminded her of how intimate they were right now, switching her attention to the partly penetration in her body. The feeling awkward and lingering between strange and uncomfortable.

She moved her arms around his back to pull him closer. "Finish it," she whispered firmly in his left ear. And to emphasize her words she pushed her hips up, the motion already bringing him deeper within her.

He grunted at the feel then his mouth clamped down on hers as he thrust forward, pushing himself in to the hilt.

He was breathing heavily against her mouth as he paused. His right hand cupping her cheek, the thumb rubbing the moisture away from beneath her eyes.

"All right?" his voice asked sweetly and when she didn't respond fast enough to his liking he added: "Worse than catching a stray bullet?"

She opened her eyes when she felt his lips on the scar on her right breast, right after his words and couldn't help but laugh. "Ask me in a minute."

"Ah…," he said, "I did warn you lieutenant that I was carrying a loaded weapon."

She couldn't… She pinched his shoulders as her body shuddered. "D-don't, don't make me laugh."

But it did relieve the tension in her body and she noticed the uncomfortable throb between her legs slowly subsided. The unpleasant feeling switching to something pleasurable with the aid of the homage his mouth paid to her breasts. And when she pressed her hips up his body followed the dance. A languid, rocking motion to make her acquainted with the foreign friction.

One of his hands meanwhile moved around her body, then lifted her up, placing her in his lap, allowing her to control the movements. His other hand moved to her rear and each time she rocked forward, squeezed gently. She arched her back, giving his mouth easy access to her breasts and cried out when the hand on her behind moved to the front and slid in between her legs, his strokes perfectly in synch with the rhythm of her thrusts.

"Please…," she could hear herself say, her arms embracing him tightly, her body instinctively urging him to do something more.

"Come, lieutenant," he coaxed hoarsely in her left ear. "Come for me, that's an order." The hand on her back moved down and pressed her harder against him, forcing him deeper and intensifying the pressure of his fingers as they stroke her into a frenzy.

This time as her body shuddered it wasn't because of his bad pun. His hips still pumping upwards through the convulsion of her inner muscles before he pushed in deep and lingered there, his mouth against her neck, his breath hot and heavy against the still sensitive scarred tissue.

She sagged against his chest as he lowered them back to the fur. She glanced down as she felt him awkwardly fondling between her legs, sliding herself off him to witness him taking hold on the wrapping surrounding his flaccid length and removing it.

Even without his sight something must have made her curiosity obvious for he replied to her unasked question, right after. "Part of the fantasy," he said grinning. "I hid a few under the rug."

"Ah," she replied and allowed him to roll her onto her side so he could spoon her. In front of her the flames were dancing in the fire place. The noise of the crackling wood, filling the room. Roy Mustang moved his arm around her and nuzzled her neck. "Is this your way of asking me to stay the night and aid you in breakfast in the morning?"

He snickered behind her. "And for securing that I do not burn my house down." A kiss was placed on her spine as fingertips traced the pattern on her back. "I do hope that lieutenant Havoc has a slow rehabilitation."

She turned her head. "Why."

He smiled. "For I have a lot to atone for."

Riza Hawkeye closed her eyes at feel of his lips placing kisses over the huge scar on her back. Her body tingling with the burning heat of his touch and the fire in front of her.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A RoyAi fic for the fans ^^  
> After writing to EdWin it was time to write a fic for this pairing. It is a lovely ship and I love the deeper affection they have for each other. One, I think, even more intimate on a psychological base than EdWin.  
> The title is perhaps a little corny, but it has a deeper meaning, I think. One I do not think I have to explain to the RoyAi fans out there.  
> As it is my first fic of this pairing, I hope it meets everyone's expectations.


End file.
